Routine Enquiry
by bethamphetamine
Summary: Sam and Annie are making routine enquiries into an illegal betting ring when Sam comes into contact with a couple of other Manchester residents of note. First LoM fic.


Sam knocked on the door of the council house in Burnage as Annie stood behind him, notebook in hand. He could hear a young child wailing inside and the clamour of older boys involved in what sounded like some kind of armed warfare. Presently, there came the shuffling sound of slippers and laboured movement towards the door.

"Who is it?" came the voice from within.

"Mrs Gallagher?"

"Who's askin'?" the rough Irish voice replied.

"Police, Mrs Gallagher. DI Tyler and DC Cartwright."

The door swung open. A tired woman with a young sulky-looking child on her hip answered. "What's 'e done now?"

"Who?"

"Tommy. The no-good shiftless Mr Gallagher. That's why yer here, innit?"

Sam and Annie exchanged glances.

"We did get his name from one of our informants, Mrs Gallagher," said Annie softly. "Perhaps if we could come in . . .?"

The woman sighed resignedly.

"Call me Peggy," she replied and took them through into the kitchen at the back of the house. Dumping the baby into a highchair and handing him a rusk, she swatted the other two older boys as they swarmed around the kitchen, firing rubber balls at each other. The eldest took off upstairs, clattering his feet on the uncovered staircase, while the other boy flopped onto one of the kitchen chairs and started idly kicking the table.

"We have information that Tommy might know something about an illegal betting ring, Peggy," said Sam as they joined the table-kicker around the scarred and battered relic.

"He might an' all," Peggy replied, dumping cups onto the table's worn top and filling them with hot water from a dented kettle. "Trouble is, I ain't seen him for a month. Stop that."

The table-kicker stopped.

"Where is he?" Annie asked, adding sugar to her tea and stirring. "It would really help us if we could just talk to him."

"What, and I'd know? Love, I'm the last one 'e would be tellin' his business to. More likely 'is fancy woman. Spends 'alf 'is time runnin' about with 'er and the other 'alf doin' God knows what."

The baby wailed loudly as the older boy pinched his chubby little arm.

"Oi, Noel! Leave Liam alone!"

Sam's mouth hung open as baby Liam grabbed a fistful of Noel's hair.

"Liam and Noel . . . Gallagher," he said to himself in wonder.

"What of it?" Peggy asked. "Too young to be in trouble just yet, I should 'ope."

"No, no . . . sorry – I'm thinking of something else," mumbled Sam as this time Noel did the screeching.

"Mam!" He pinched his brother back harder and Liam howled.

"Did you ever hear a baby make such a noise?" groaned Peggy, deftly untangling his grasp on his older brother's hair. "If I had a quid for every time this one opened 'is mouth, I'd be rich." She grabbed the other boy as he darted around to attack from the other side. "Noel – leave off!"

"He started it!"

"Don't be daft, 'e's only a baby!"

Noel gave his brother a final pinch and dived under the table to evade his mother's grasp, surfacing next to Sam.

"Hello, Noel," said Sam, grinning and – before he could help himself – "What's the story, morning glory?"

"Nonce," replied the kid, before darting out of the door.

"Cheeky sod!" his mother called after him and shook her head in despair. "They get it from their father, you know. I'm at me wit's end with what to do with 'em. And I can tell already Liam's going to be even more of a handful."

"Have you thought about channelling their energy into something creative?" Sam asked.

"You what?" Peggy replied skeptically.

"That's right," Annie said. "Like gettin' 'em into sports or woodwork . . ."

"Or music," added Sam helpfully.

"Music?" Peggy snorted. "And that's goin' to put dinner on the table for 'em, is it?"

Sam managed to keep a straight face and shrugged.

The rest of the interview was conducted in between various yells and curses from upstairs and cries for "Mam!" from Liam who was alternately smashing his rusk into the tray of his highchair and into his own hair.

"Anyway, we best be going, Mrs Gallagher," said Annie, when the tea was drunk and the interview concluded. "Do let us know if you hear from Tommy, all right?"

"You'll be hearing," said Peggy, wearily. "He'll probably be round here shakin' up the house when he wants something."

She walked them through the hallway out to the front door. Another howl came from the back of the house and Noel pushed through them to run out to the front steps.

"Don't you worry they're going to kill each other?" Annie asked.

Peggy snorted. "They're just boys being boys. They'll grow out of it."

Sam handed Peggy his card and they turned to leave. Noel was occupied with bouncing a ball against the garden wall.

"See yer later, nonce!" he called when they were well away.

"Cheeky little bastard!" Sam said in disbelief. "Hey, 'Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants' was a rubbish album, you little git!"

Noel looked briefly puzzled before resorting to the failsafe retort of any Mancunian and jabbed two fingers in the air.

"Sam, come on, he's only a kid," said Annie, laughing as Sam gaped.

Sam stared at Noel for a moment longer before joining her.

"Yeah, you're right, Annie. As the famous song says, 'Don't look back in anger', eh?"

"Haven't heard that one," replied Annie as they walked back towards the Cortina.


End file.
